The Christmas Gift
by JestersTear
Summary: It's Christmas and both Severus and Hermione would rather it weren't. After a chance meeting they end up spending Christmas evening together... Short story, set six months after graduation.
1. Tears and Laughter

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters and am not making a profit out of this. Every-wonderful-thing else belongs to J. K. Rowling. This disclaimer covers all chapters.

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**The Christmas Gift**

**Chapter One: Tears and Laughter**

The calendar on his desk seemed to be mocking him. December the 24th. Yet another Christmas. Yet another year when he would go down to the Great Hall and be regarded with either hatred or pity. Hatred from his students; oh, yes, each and every one of them hated him, he made sure of that. Even now, that Voldemort was nothing more than a bad memory for them, more than six months after his defeat, he made sure no one was able to feel anything but hatred. He didn't mind hatred so much – at least it was a clean feeling – it was the pity that sickened him to his very marrow. The pity he saw in the eyes of the other teachers, the pity because he was there not because his loved ones had died or were on holiday, but because he had none. Because no one loved him, no one had ever loved him, not even once. But not this year. No more, never again. He would not go down there to be pitied, it stopped now.

He glanced at his clock: half past five. It was a good time to leave. He would go to Hogsmeade and rent a room for the night. Maybe two nights. Yes, that was probably better, two nights. He would come back to Hogwarts on the 26th and _he_ was the one who pitied the first person to ask where he had spent Christmas. His decision made, he had no more reason to linger; he grabbed his cloak and left.

---

Tears streamed freely down her face and she made no effort to stop them or wipe them away. Her pain was too great, too fresh, had been entrapped inside her too tight, and now it had to break free. All around her there were cheerful smiles and bright decorations, while people hurried with coloured gifts, all clearly having somewhere to go. All adding to her pain. It wasn't as if she hadn't been asked, oh, no, she had, dozens of times, by her two best friends and a few of her relatives – but it somehow just didn't seem right. She would always be the odd one out, no matter how much her presence was appreciated, and she didn't think she could bear to see other families' happiness while her own had been so utterly destroyed. And the irony of it all, that she had felt so grateful that her parents had survived Voldemort... only to have them die in a senseless car crash four weeks before Christmas. She couldn't spend it with another family, it would be a betrayal to their memories... and yet, at the last minute, she had understood it would be as much of a betrayal not to acknowledge the season at all. To pretend a time her parents had taught her to cherish didn't exist. So she had decorated her house with morbid precision, set up a glorious Christmas tree and cooked all the customary courses. Even if she was to eat them, or pretend to eat them, all alone. Then, when she had thought everything was already in place, she had realised her tree lacked a star. It couldn't, it was unacceptable, Christmas trees at her parents' house had always had a star. The same star, beautiful and gold, shining atop it. She remembered her mother's words when she was just a small child.

_"One day, Hermione, you will have your own home, when you're all grown up-"_

_"But I don't want to, mommy. I'll always want to be with you, can I? Please?"_

Her mother had laughed then. _"You can live with us for as long as you like, darling. But one day you'll want to live. And then, when it's Christmas, you'll have your very own house, with your very own tree and your very own star on top. And then daddy and I will come to visit, and bring you presents..."_

Blinded by tears now, she got up and ran. Now she lived in Hogsmeade, and it would have been safe for her parents to come and visit. She had been looking forward to that Christmas ever since June, when Harry had defeated Voldemort... The lump in her throat tightened impossibly. She might not have been able to welcome her parents to a Christmas Eve at her very own house with her very own tree, but at least her very own tree would have her very own star on top; that part of her mother's happy prediction would come true.

---

It was a beautiful white Christmas, Severus noticed with more than a touch of sarcasm. How bloody perfect. How absolutely, bloody perfect that he should spend such a beautiful white Christmas finding that there were no rooms to rent for the night. Oh, but he would not go back to Hogwarts. He would not spend his Christmas Eve being pitied if it meant spending it on the street.

Suddenly he could think no more as all of the air was knocked out of him and something dressed in grey sent him tumbling to the snow-floor. Expecting to hear an apology of some sort, he was amazed at the words that actually left the grey-dressed thing's lips.

"The star! My star!"

He could recognise that voice anywhere. He had heard it for seven years, pestering him endlessly during Potions lessons. Hermione Granger, prefect, Head Girl and Harry Potter's best friend. Who now seemed frantic, searching desesperately for something in the snow. At last she seemed to find it – something wrapped in brown paper – and, after having felt it, sighed with some relief.

"My star."

"How very fortunate, Miss Granger, that your star is still in one piece. Were I able to say the same thing about my bones! Is this retribution, for what you considered ill treatment during the years you attended my classes?"

 She hadn't even stopped to see who she had knocked down until he spoke and, when he did, his acerbic comment had a refreshing effect. Hermione hadn't noticed just how sick and tired she was of everyone treating her as if she were labelled "fragile" until now. The tension inside of her seemed to ease a bit and she laughed, the first genuine laughter in a month. She laughed so hard she couldn't even get up from her kneeling position, and her eyes, which had been filled with tears of pain, were now filling with tears of mirth.

"Oh! Oh Gods, professor, I... I'm sorry..." she laughed harder and managed to say, still laughing, "had I known it was you and I would have pushed harder!"

Shock was the only thing Severus was able to feel. Not at what an onlooker would have perceived – a former student being rude to him – but at the fact that she had recognised his attempt at humour and was repaying him in kind. How very odd indeed that she hadn't just muttered an apology and rushed off to... wherever it was she was going. He found himself snorting.

"Well, thank you ever so much, Miss Granger. I'll remember to keep my identity hidden next time then, shall I?"

She was still shaking with laughter. After a few more minutes, however, the Potions Master had the distinct feeling there was more to it than just humour. Finally the laughter subsided and she calmed somewhat, sitting on the snow just as Severus got up. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Miss Granger?"

"I can't..." She clutched her stomach with her gloved hands and looked helplessly at him. "Can't get up..."

Automatically he extended her a hand that she gratefully accepted and helped her to her feet. As if on cue her star fell to the snow again and he picked it up.

"Your star."

She looked at the brown-wrapped thing as if it were something precious. "Thank you, professor." She met his gaze. "Thank you very much"

Once more he felt there was something more to her words than the obvious.

"You're quite welcome, Miss Granger." He answered with a slight upturning of the corners of his mouth. "Feel free to have me fetched from Hogwarts anytime you need to shove and mock someone."

Hermione smiled, surprised that there was no venomous sting to her words. Surprised at how easily a man she had never liked – respected, yes, but never liked – had succeeded without trying where so many others had failed. He had succeeded in brightening her day.

"I will. Merry Christmas, professor."

"Merry Christmas, Miss Granger."

The second he walked away she was assaulted by loneliness. How sad that the best she could hope for Christmas was to fall asleep as early as possible.

"Professor!" she called out reflexively. He turned.

"Yes?"

"Will you let me buy you a cup of tea, as a means to repairing the damage?"

Startled, Severus searched her face for signs of...  anything. Scorn, pity, anything, but found none. Except perhaps... she looked as he would have, weren't he so good at hiding his emotions, whenever he felt alone. She felt alone at Christmas? How very odd. Instinctively he knew the best he could do for her – and that was another disturbing notion, that he could actually _do_ something _for_ someone that did not involve spying – was to maintain their playful tone.

"I believe it is the least you can do, Miss Granger, after such an unacceptable behaviour towards an old man's bones." 

Hermione laughed... gratefully?.. was the only way he could put it, and they were off to the Three Broomsticks.

---

Twenty minutes later none of them was feeling very playful anymore. The Three Broomsticks had been closed, as had every other place they had thought of. It was, after all, a quarter to seven on Christmas Eve – not many establishments counted on a pair of misfits looking for some tea. Severus' voice now held its more familiar quality, laced with tiredness.

"Miss Granger, this is futile. I thank you for your offer, but it seems we will have to have our tea some other time."

Her own voice was subdued. "Yes, I suppose you're right." He was about to make his goodbyes when she cut right across him. "You know... I have several different teas at home, and I live ten minutes away..." She broke off uncertainly. She could barely believe she was so needy after all that she was practically pleading Snape – Snape! – to spend a few more minutes with her.

"Once more I thank you, but I hardly think my reunion with Mr. Potter would make for a very merry Christmas."

"Harry's not going to be there." she answered quietly. One more thing to surprise him, although nothing could surprise him as much as her seeming to genuinely _want _his company.

"In that case, I would love to."

---

At least this was to be expected, Severus reflected while he sat on her sofa, her house was the epitome of Christmas. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to his former student – had she had a falling out with her friends? – but he wasn't one to ask questions. Which was exactly what Hermione was thinking of, and feeling grateful for, as the kettle boiled on her stove.

When she sat next to him with their tea she still had the same bleak look on her face but, at the first mention of an experimental potion, she became immediately recognisable as the Gryffindor know-it-all he had endured for seven years. Only now that she was no longer his student he was more comfortable admitting to himself that her unquenchable thirst for knowledge stimulated his own mind. Soon they were immersed in a discussion on the possibly addictive properties of the Wolfsbane potion and, before he realised it, it was half past nine. He would never be able to find a room _now_, and yet he couldn't bring himself to regret the time spent in their early evening conversation. He could no longer remember when he had last had a conversation that was only what it seemed – no ill-concealed pity or veiled threats, merely two adults talking. Whatever the reason her friends weren't showing up they were fools, the both of them. Not that _that_ came as any sort of surprise. He got up regretfully as the clock chimed ten.

"Thank you very much, Miss Granger, for a most enjoyable evening. I wish you once more a very merry Christmas, I shall be going along now."

In all the years that were to come, Hermione would never know what started her talking. Maybe it was the fact that she knew he was going to Hogwarts and was pretty sure Christmas there held no special meaning for him. Maybe it was because, while she couldn't stand the forced cheerfulness on other people's voices while they were around her, the thought of spending Christmas alone filled her with emptiness – a funny concept, to be filled with emptiness. Or maybe it was because she knew she could always trust Severus Snape to be Severus Snape, a constant despite the swirling world around her. Whatever the reason, she just spoke.

"Are you sure you wouldn't care to stay, professor?" She felt the need to justify herself. "It's just that I cooked all this food, and now I realise I cooked way too much for just one, and I was figuring maybe you'd help me eat it..." She fell silent, feeling suddenly ridiculous.

Severus felt shaken by her words. She would be spending Christmas _alone_? He had assumed she had had a falling out with her friends, not that even her parents wouldn't be showing up. It seemed so wrong for her to be alone on that holiday... as if she were turning to himself and no one was even noticing it. He looked her in the eye, gazed, searched... and then said, as something of a silent understanding flashed between them.

"Well, we mustn't let all that food go to waste then. Although I warn you, Miss Granger, I will make you try out anything before I eat it, lest you be trying to poison me."

Hermione smiled as a mixture of gratitude and relief over flooded her.

"Professor, you've got yourself a deal."

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**Author's Note:** This will be a short story, with only a couple more chapters left, possibly an epilogue. Please let me know what you think. Review!


	2. Kisses and Tears

**The Christmas Gift**

**Chapter Two: Kisses and Tears**

That Christmas dinner was, for Severus, truly memorable. Beyond the shadow of a doubt the best Christmas he had ever had. He ate, and drank, and talked, and made her laugh, all as if he were a normal person... all as if he weren't a rotten apple fallen from the tree... And the beautiful young woman sitting across from him at the table, who he had done his best - his worst? - to antagonise for seven years for no other reason than the fact that she was a Gryffindor and Harry Potter's friend seemed to actually enjoy his company. He found himself wishing fervently that he could do more to help her than to merely turn himself into the court's jester, but that seemed to be easing the sadness in her eyes and he knew he shouldn't ask. And he was so damn grateful that she didn't, at least apparently, pity him.

Hermione would never have believed if someone had told her what amazing company her former professor made for. It had been such a pleasant dinner, filled with interesting conversation... and the man had an outstanding sense of humour as well. She had never seen him relaxed before, but it seemed to bring out the best in him... either that or he had suddenly been taken by the holiday spirit, but she didn't think it likely.

Midnight came, and Hermione's only concern was not having bought Severus a present. They were so deep in conversation, in fact, that midnight would have gone by completely unnoticed by the both of them if it weren't for the melodious chiming of her clock. Hearing the chiming, however, Severus was suddenly afraid he might be overstaying his welcome.

"Miss Granger, you must be tired. Forgive me, it was inconsiderate of me not to have noticed the time."

"Not at all, professor. I had a wonderful evening." She wasn't exaggerating a bit. Now that he was leaving, Hermione knew she would go to bed and sleep perfectly well because of the evening they had shared. It wasn't as if she had forgotten what had happened - her parents' faces would always be etched in her memory - but he had helped her during a critical moment and she was sure everything would be easier now. She briefly wondered what his story was, and why he didn't have anything better to do at Christmas than to spend it with her, but it wasn't her place to ask.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Miss Granger."

"It was my pleasure. I'll walk you to the door, professor."

On a subconscious level, Hermione was aware something had changed. Somewhere down the line of her loneliness it had become personal; while at first she didn't want to be alone, now she didn't want _him _to go. Which was why she stopped him yet again as they reached the door, using a strategy she would later blame on one too many glasses of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey.

"Look, professor! We're under the mistletoe!" 

Severus was unfamiliar with the tradition. "Excuse me?"

"The mistletoe. We're under the mistletoe." She met his eyes with her own and leaned closer, her cheeks aflame. "It's tradition to kiss under the mistletoe."

And she did, in fact, kiss him. Full on the lips. At the beginning Severus was too amazed to do anything. Then he became aware of what was happening and answered her with a kiss of his own, gentle, restrained, and yet so filled of unspoken passion and repressed hunger Hermione nearly wept. In a few short seconds all of the years she had known him played in her mind from a different perspective. How lonely he must have felt, how used. So many years of pain... Idiots like Fudge, pointing an accusing finger at him, not because he bore the Dark Mark but because he had had the courage to admit it. To show it and seek redemption. And because he didn't have the money, of course, or he would go from lowly Death Eater to respected patron in a flash.

Severus was trembling when he pulled away from her, cursing himself for his lack of self-control. He had known she was distressed, and had seen her drink a few more glasses of Ogden's than her fair share, how could he have taken advantage of it? Gods, he so disgusted himself! Yet then she looked at him, pressed closer into his embrace, silent tears coursing down her cheeks, her voice a whispered plea.

"Don't let go. Please don't let me go."

Severus was dumbstruck. "I..." Then she hesitantly placed both of her hands on his face and started exploring it, almost as if she were blind. He didn't move an inch, afraid something would crack if he did, unaware that he was holding his breath. He was a very private man, and had always been a very lonely one as well; this searching of his face felt more like an intrusion in his closely guarded space than even her kiss had been, albeit not wholly unwelcome. Finally, when the tension became too much to bear, he brought his strong hands to her face and gently wiped away her tears. Not even knowing why, Severus was certain that, at that moment, he would have given anything to take away her pain, even if for himself. His arms came around her tentatively.

"I won't. I've got you now, don't worry, I won't let go."

Even if a small part of him was aware that he shouldn't be doing it, that what she needed was a black cup of coffee, definitely not a needy Potions Master, he couldn't resist her pull. No one had ever looked at him like that, as if they needed him; even those who did need him, in fact, acted as if it were their God-given right to order him around, let alone... let alone a beautiful woman pleading him to stay. It was too much, he couldn't fight it in the name of what was right. He felt a sudden urge to say her name, to taste it and let it roll on his tongue.

"Hermione."

She looked up in understanding. His name was like a prayer on her lips, making him tremble.

"Severus."

And he was lost. Lost in her arms, her kisses, lost in her. And Gods helped him if he ever wanted to be found.

Hermione's reasoning had left her quite some time ago, if it had been with her at all during that night. All she could think of was that it was right. It _felt_ right, _he_ felt right. And when, amidst kisses and tears, she led him to her bedroom, she was certain she wouldn't regret it in the morning.

---

Severus awoke first, quickly grabbing his wand as his instincts kicked in and he realised he was in unfamiliar surroundings. Then he opened his eyes and everything came back to him. Hermione. Hermione, knocking him down, laughing with and not _at_ him, offering him a place to spend Christmas. And then offering him so much more... he fought the urge to be sick. He had left Hogwarts not to be pitied, and yet he had allowed her to give herself to him out of pity... what other reason could there be? He had taken a pity fuck from - no, scratch that, he had taken advantage of - a drunken, distressed eighteen year-old former student on Christmas. _'Gods, Severus, you could have sunk no lower.'_

The walls closing in on him, he could stay there no longer. With a flick of his wand he was dressed; the second flick took him to the Hogwarts' Gates, where he practically ran to the solitude of his dungeons, disgusted with himself. And still there was a treacherous part of him that wanted nothing more than to go back and take whatever she was still willing to offer, pity or no pity. He knew he would never be able to forget her, and he was in no fit state to try. Although it was only eight o'clock on Christmas morning, Severus bolted for his nightstand and grasped a vial of Dreamless Sleep. Christmas Eve was still too raw for him to deal with. Gratefully closing his eyes, he was asleep in a second.

_I gave it all, I took it back_

_And in the end there's nothing left except a shell surrounding_

_Emptiness and loneliness, a core of pain_

_I feel my pathway shining_

_So I lay me down to lie_

_And with the rain my lullaby_

_I drift away to Dreamless Sleep_

_Leave behind a life that died_

_A victim of a plague of ghosts_

_I was wrapped up in my guilt_

_Buried deep within my memories_

_A shelter of self-pity that I know the rain will wash away_

_I sense the storm arriving_

---

It had been almost a month since Hermione had felt so good in the morning. She stretched in her bed, trying to understand why she felt that way. The she remembered. Severus. Her former professor, the 'greasy git', the Head of Slytherin and former Death Eater himself. The unfair bastard that made Potions Hell. The tender lover in whose arms she had spent the night, the fiercely passionate man she had discovered inside the hardened shell. A contented smile played on her lips and she reached a hand to where she knew he would be. Except he wasn't. For the briefest of instants after having opened her eyes she harboured a tiny hope that he might have just gone to the bathroom; and yet when she called out his name she already knew there would be no answer.

Tears came to her eyes unbidden. Of course he had left, what did she expect? He had wanted to go the night before, _she_ was the one who had almost begged him to stay. And he had pitied her too much to refuse. How could she have done it, how could she have thrown herself at him like that? She had thought he would make a wonderful friend, why had she ruined it? Gods, how he must have felt! Realising he had shagged his former student - and a mudblood at that - and that he was still in her bed. That he was still in bed with someone he more than likely perceived as a kid... He had made her Christmas worthwhile and she had repaid him by throwing herself at him.

And yet... he had seemed to want her... had she imagined the look in his eyes, the desire he had appeared to be feeling? _Well, obviously, Granger, or he wouldn't have left._ Had she really been _that_ bad? She didn't want to think about it anymore. Actually, what was there to think about? It had been a one-night stand, it had been good and it was over. Nothing more and nothing less. Really nothing to think about. Returning to her bed, Hermione pulled the covers and hid on Christmas Day

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**Author's Note:** Only one more chapter to go, I think. I was stunned by how many reviews I got, I am out of words to thank you all, so I'll just say a very big **THANK YOU. **

I'm not sure if kissing under the mistletoe is a tradition in the United Kingdom; it isn't here in Portugal, but I've seen it in some american films and thought I'd use it in the hopes of it having sprung from Britain. If it isn't, let's just assume Hermione watched too many films as well. :)

Please review! :)))

The song is Rain Gods Dancing, by Fish, and here are the full lyrics. It simply seemed custom-made for Severus. If you like it, check out Fish's website, www. the-company. com. Fish, Marillion (both with Fish and with h) and Arena make the best music out there!

**_Rain Gods Dancing_**

_Empty churches, empty pews_

_In the subway nothing moves_

_And the static on the radio is drowning out the sound_

_Of Rain Gods dancing_

_Empty playgrounds, empty bars_

_I can__'t remember how it was before the flood_

_When all I had to do was simply recognise_

_The love that's trapped inside___

_I gave it all, I took it back_

_And in the end there's nothing left except a shell surrounding_

_Emptiness and loneliness, a core of pain_

_I feel my pathway shining_

_Rain Gods with Zippos_

_A tin man hides a broken heart_

_Rain Gods with Zippos_

_He knows the flame is gone, that soon he'll fall apart_

_So I lay me down to lie_

_And with the rain my lullaby_

_I drift away to Dreamless Sleep_

_Leave behind a life that died_

_A victim of a plague of ghosts_

_I was wrapped up in my guilt_

_Buried deep within my memories_

_A shelter of self-pity that I know the rain will wash away_

_I sense the storm arriving_

_Rain Gods with Zippos_

_A tin man rusts away and slowly falls apart_

_Rain Gods with Zippos_

_And all he leaves behind a bleeding, broken heart_


	3. Completion

**The Christmas Gift**

**Chapter Three: Completion**

Four months later she was still not thinking about it. And she was doing a good job of it too, so good, in fact, that she did it every day. She was an expert on not thinking of Severus Snape. Which was why she was deeply disturbed when Albus Dumbledore's head showed up floating on her fireplace, with not a twinkle left in his eyes, saying it was of extreme urgency she came to Hogwarts immediately. He had refused to disclose any more details over the floo and now, on the path that led to her old school, all Hermione could do was pray that she wouldn't run into the Potions Master. Surely there was limited amount of humiliation one could suffer in a single lifetime.

Much to her surprise, the Headmaster was waiting for her at the gates, looking every one of his many years.

"Miss Granger." His tone was grave.

"Headmaster! Please tell me, what happened?"

"It's Severus, my dear." Her world collapsed. _Severus???_ But Dumbledore hadn't finished yet. "He was attacked last week, by two Death Eaters who had managed to evade capture. The Aurors are searching for them even as we speak."

Hermione's heart nearly stopped. "A... attacked?"

"His life is in the balance. A very powerful dark curse was cast on him, we don't know if he'll live. He was no random victim, this was a planned _vendetta_, but Poppy is working with a specialist from St. Mungo's. We're all doing our best, Miss Granger, but I'm afraid there is little hope."

She swallowed hard as the full force of her as-of-yet-unacknowledged feelings for him hit her square in the chest. Had she just been told that Severus was... dying??

"I wouldn't have asked for you to come here if he hadn't requested it himself. He has few conscious moments, but he seems to spend them all asking for you. If you would do me the favour, Miss Granger, it is very important. Should... should the worst happen, I would like to think he went in peace."

_In peace?!?_ No, no, no, this couldn't be happening, surely she was having a nightmare. Her voice was strangled.

"Where is he?"

"The infirmary. Miss Granger-"

Hermione wasn't listening anymore. She was running at breakneck speed, too afraid she might be missing out on one of his conscious moments... too afraid she might be too late. She burst into the infirmary breathless.

"Miss Granger! Thank the Gods you came!"

"Madam Pomfrey. Where is he?"

"This way."

Without another word Hermione followed the mediwitch to a secluded bed in the back of the infirmary. When Madam Pomfrey drew open the curtains, the younger witch had to cover her mouth with her hands not to scream. Dumbledore hadn't told her Severus had been beaten as well as cursed. One might say his swollen face was covered in bruises, but a more accurate description would be that his swollen bruise still had a few pieces of face left. As if reading her mind, Madam Pomfrey explained.

"I've tried dozens of healing charms and potions, but they won't work. The curse they used on him is preventing him from healing. The only thing I've been able to do for him when the pain is too intense is to give him an infusion..."

Hermione noticed the pregnant silence. "Of what? An infusion of what?"

"Asphodel and wormwood. In carefully measured doses. It's the only thing that will help him sleep through the pain. He's usually more lucid when he wakes up after that. He keeps asking for you, dear."

Hermione's eyes were filled with tears.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. I'll stay here with him now, in case he wakes up."

---

Hermione had been sitting there for two hours, fighting the urge to touch his face for fear of hurting him, when he began to stir. Her name was on his lips even before he had managed to open a fraction of his swollen eyes.

"Hermione."

"I'm right here, Severus."

He let out a sigh of relief. "You came."

"Yes, I came, I'm here. I'm here. You wanted to speak with me?"

"I... I wanted..." her tears kept falling seeing how painful it was for him to speak, how he had to stop at every other word to catch his breath. "to say... I'm sorry."

"You're sorry." _For having left?_

"I'm sorry for... what happened... on Christmas Eve."

On Christmas _Eve_? He was dying and he still wanted to make sure she knew he regretted making love to her? Gods! "You're sorry." She repeated, holding back tears.

"I shouldn't have... taken advantage... of you. I never... never wanted pity... but you... so beautiful... I couldn't... control... I... I'm sorry. Please."

Whatever Hermione had been expecting, it wasn't that. She had read everything wrong? He had... he had been worried he might have taken advantage of her? And it had consumed him so that he had felt the need to apologise even though he might be dying? That he had thought of nothing else throughout days of endless pain? A strangled sob that she could no longer contain escaped her throat and she took his hand in hers very gently, her voice unsteady.

"Severus! Gods, don't be sorry, there is nothing to be sorry for! You didn't take advantage of me, I knew exactly what I was doing."

Her words, however, didn't seem to appease him.

"I'm... dying... no lies... forgive me... please?"

It was too much for Hermione to bear. Too much pain, too many misunderstandings, too much death around her.

"Don't say that, _don't you say that_." Her tears were blurring her speech now. "You did not take advantage of me, I wanted you. So very much, Gods, so much! And I thought... I thought you had left because you couldn't stand it... That you'd stayed because I had asked you so much that you were sorry for me... and that you'd left because you couldn't stomach having gone to bed with a mudblood..." She saw the flash that went through his face - pain that had no relation to the physical one he was in, doubt, self-hatred - and hastened to correct it. "Not like that, Severus, I know how hard you worked to bring Voldemort down, and how much it must have cost you. But I believe in house-elf rights too, and I wouldn't invite one to my bed." 

She was surprised by a rasping sound that she was able to identify as laughter. With great effort Severus brought his hand to her cheek.

"You... not an elf..."

She gave a half-laugh at that. "Oh, Severus, I know. And I didn't truly believe you would be so prejudiced after all you've done. It was just... easier... on me than to think you had left because I had been so bad..."

Hermione felt his hand twitch and was afraid he was having a spasm. Then she looked at the slit inside of which his dark eyes could be seen. Glittering passionately, burning. "Never bad... You could... never be bad... It was... wonderful..." He closed his eyes in pain and let out in a whisper. "Perfect..."

Severus had never known he could feel such pain. He had taken the _Cruciatus_ more times than he could count, arrived from Dark Revels more often than not bleeding and broken, and for almost a week now he had been suffering the prolonged effects of a coward beating, courtesy of the _Doloris__ Infinit__æ_ curse, and yet he had never known he could be in so great a pain until he understood what had happened. He had been given a chance, on Christmas, to live out what little remained of his life in happiness - with her as his lover, or maybe even something more - and he had stupidly, foolishly thrown it away. And now he was dying and there was no more time. Nothing that could be done. He had prayed for death a thousand times and, now that it had come to claim him, he would give anything to have another year, another month, another week, another _day_ to be alive. With her by his side. He had been given such a precious, precious chance... and he had lost it. He had wasted it. A solitary tear escaped his eye and trailed slowly down the side of his abused face. He opened his eyes as much as he could, trying to imprint her image in his memory so that maybe, just maybe, he could take that final memory along as he went.

"Hermione..." She locked her gaze with his, trembling. "I wish I... I wish I could live..." he let out in a breath "... for you..."

Hermione grabbed his hand and kissed his palm fiercely, her cheek wet with tears. "Don't give up, Severus, please. All we need is a bit more time, we'll break it. _Please. Don't you die on me._"

"I'm... fading..." He closed his eyes and drifted to unconsciousness again. Hermione was frantic. She let go of his hand as gently as she could and ran to find Madam Pomfrey.

"Madam Pomfrey! Where is that expert from St. Mungo's?"

"Dr. Hayden is down in the Potions Lab, dear."

With a quick 'thank you' she was off to her old classroom, pain and fear warring with hope within her.

---

She had been cheated. It was her only thought as she drew the curtains from Severus' bed in the infirmary only to find it empty. After a day of intense research with Dr. Hayden, Hermione had had an epiphany - it didn't matter how good a doctor the man was, if you wanted an unbreakable curse broken there was only one place you could go: Gringotts Bank, Egypt Division. And so she had and, three days after that - three whole days where she had not seen Severus once, too intent on healing him before it was too late - she thought they might have succeeded. But then Madam Pomfrey had laced her headache potion with Dreamless Sleep, and she hadn't noticed it soon enough - her wits had been dulled by ninety-six hours of wakefulness - and now his bed was empty and she was afraid of what it could mean.

"Oh, Gods! Severus..."

"... Is resting in his quarters now that he no longer requires constant medical surveillance." answered a kind voice behind her. Hermione turned to see Albus Dumbledore smiling at her. The brightest of smiles lit up her face at the news. She moved past the elderly wizard in a daze.

"I'll be going there, then, alright?"

Ten seconds later she was back, looking helpless.

"Headmaster, I don't know..."

"At the end of the Potions corridor, the painting of the thunderstorm. You need to touch the lightning bolt. Oh, and be careful - it usually gives one a bit of a shock."

She would have laughed were she not so anxious to go to Severus. She was at the painting in a flash. After having touched the lightning bolt though - and having been suitably shocked - she was caught by a surge of nervousness. Should she really be here, imposing her presence on him so soon? But his words... '_Perfect...'__ 'I wish I could live... for you...'_ She gathered her courage and walked in, making just enough noise that he would notice her if he were awake, but not so much as to wake him were he asleep. As it turned out he was reading a book and lifted his head to see who was intruding in his privacy. Myriad expressions crossed his face, that had shrunk into its usual size and looked considerably healthier, but Hermione was the first to break the silence.

"Severus. It worked." _Way to go, Granger, queen of the obvious_, she berated herself. He kept staring at her, eyes filled with... longing?.. until his whole body stiffened. All of his posture suddenly spelled formality and, when he finally spoke, his voice was cold and distant.

"Miss Granger-" She looked at him in shock.

"Severus-" He lifted a hand up to silence her.

"_Miss Granger_. I have only one thing to say to you. You are free to go. I will not hold you prisoner to the kind words you offered a dying man. And I... thank you for everything you did."

Even though she was sure he wanted her, she couldn't prevent her tears from falling. "Gods, Severus. Please. I can't take this anymore, I can't take it twice. Everything you said... was it a lie? Do I mean nothing to you, did you only stay on Christmas Eve because I pleaded so much? Just tell me the truth once and for all, Severus, do I mean nothing?"

She hadn't thought it was possible for a man recovering of such violent a curse to move so fast. Before she knew it she was being held tight in his arms, and couldn't help but to marvel at how quickly some of his strength seemed to have returned.

"You mean everything. Everything." He captured her face in his hands and tilted it upwards. "But what could I possibly have to give you, Hermione?"

Her eyes were completely clear as she answered, just before she brought his mouth down to hers. "You."

--------------------

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much for all of your lovely reviews! :))))) Many of you asked me to make this a full-length story, I'm so very flattered! The only reason why I won't is because I have to focus on my other fic, Hidden Within, before I start getting howlers. I may do an epilogue for this one in a week or two, though, what do you say?

You may say Severus was out of character here, but the way I see it he thought he was dying, and there wasn't much point in hiding his feelings anymore. 

I've finished Order of the Phoenix, it was a strange one to read, I'm not really sure how I feel about it yet. I won't comment on it because of those of you who have yet to read it, but at least I'm glad Hermione defended Severus a bit. Review, please!****


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